Over the Rainbow: National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day
I woke up excited and ready for the day. It was finally here--my very first doctor appointment. My very first ultrasound. My very first look at that pretty little baby inside of me. I had found out I was pregnant SO long ago (or what seemed like forever). I liked to see the lines get darker every day so I probably peed on too many sticks.
And at nine weeks pregnant, I felt pretty good about life, and about being pregnant. I wasn't experiencing any nausea and felt really great. I was just anxious to finally see that little babe I was making.
We headed to the doctor, my husband and I. We were full of anticipation and excitement. A first look at our first child. How could we be nothing but excited?
My doctor asked me a bunch of questions, and FINALLY wheeled in the little portable ultrasound machine. I mean, man alive, can we start with that? I just wanted to see that baby already!
She put the probe on my stomach, and then she searched, and searched, and searched... and stopped.
She shut the machine off, and said, "These in-room machines are the worst. I can't see anything I'm looking for, so I'm going to send you downstairs to the big ultrasound machines."
So we headed downstairs. Our hopes and dreams on hold for just a brief moment. It was just the machine... right?
The ultrasound tech walked in. She was very frank and very clear about her findings. She couldn't find anything. "It could be too early," she said. And she asked us to do a vaginal ultrasound.
There was no heartbeat. We were not going to become parents. I had miscarried.
Waiting in the waiting room to see the doctor again with a BUNCH of pregnant woman is utterly excruciating. There they all are--with their happy pregnant selves. Happily awaiting the perfect birth of their perfect child.
We finally met with my doctor, and I cried. And cried. And cried some more. She said a bunch of things, and I cried. And from that moment, I'm not sure I ever stopped crying.
They decided to wait a week to see if there were any changes. I cried every day that week. Every day. Non-stop. I couldn't help it. Thankfully, a very understanding boss let me work from home all week. I couldn't be around anybody. I was sad and depressed. I had never felt so much hurt.
While working from home, tears streamed down my face. Those tears slammed on every key as I typed. I tried to pretend like I might stop crying one day. It was painful. It was unbearable.
A week later, I had one more ultrasound. Nothing was different. It was time to end my pregnancy. A pregnancy that would not make us first-time parents; a hope that was torn away from me in a blink of an eye.
Miscarriage is hard. You may think, "What's the problem? The baby wasn't going to develop correctly, so you had a miscarriage." That's logical, right? But it's so much more than that. It's physical. It's emotional. It's painful.
You may even think, "Well, just try again, and have a baby that WILL develop correctly." But it doesn't happen like that. Losing a baby is not easy.
I had all of these plans: The baby would come in October. I'd take maternity leave for three months, we would save enough money to have an emergency savings. We would pay off the cars. We would create the perfect nursery. We would love on that baby so hard with millions of kisses a day. We would be the best parents. We would be PARENTS.
And that whole plan was taken away from me, from us, in one second. Literally--one second.
It's painful--losing a baby. Time goes on. You find ways to deal with it. But you never forget. That was 2012. I can remember every one of those feelings like it was yesterday. But.. I did stop crying. I did breathe again. I did make it through. I will never forget that baby who never came to Earth, but I can live my life having empathy for all those mamas out there who are feeling this same way. For those mamas who are grieving. For those mamas who lose their children and think they can't ever move on.
So hug your friends who are hurting today. Give them a bit of that extra love. Remember the child of theirs that should have been, that could have been. Understand that today, on 'National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day', there are people in your circle grieving. And if it's you who is hurting, then I give you all the love and hugs in the world. Know that you are NOT alone. And that we hope you can find the support you need today. Send us a DM on Instagram, leave us a comment below, or just give us a call. We are here for you.